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“Lover Lover Lover Lover Lover Lover Lover,”

I dreamt of you again last night
and the dress you wore
polished my mind like
sand swirling spiral screws through a tide pool,
still filled by the treasures you once brought me;
Never again to be taken back to sea by any flood;
Held tight beneath my vines, these memories
still laced together by the love we both wore,
as if this garment were torn apart in another life, not ours.
These hours from seconds we both refuse to deny
in our momentary lapse of arrousal.
A trickle of light, a bed for a bath,
your hair smelling of rosemary bush
in the midnight hour thunderstorm.
I dream of comets. You dream of clouds.
I sleep naked atop all the sheets of the world,
while you turn over beneath so many more,
still arched inside the silver sky evening gown.